


From Eden

by JellyPanda00



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley Has Self-Esteem Issues (Good Omens), Cunnilingus, Experienced Aziraphale, M/M, Mutual Pining, No Beta, Not Beta Read, Oral Sex, Song: From Eden (Hozier), Top Aziraphale (Good Omens), Virgin Crowley, based on a hozier song
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-20
Updated: 2019-10-20
Packaged: 2020-12-24 11:53:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,606
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21099032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JellyPanda00/pseuds/JellyPanda00
Summary: Honey you're familiar like my mirror years agoIdealism sits in prison, chivalry fell on it's swordInnocence died screaming, honey ask me I should knowI slithered here from Eden just to hide outside your door





	From Eden

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this at three am after sobbing over how perfect Hozier is. It's shit, please enjoy lmao

There was something so tragic about the angel dressed in white linen robes. Crawly had been watching him guarding the walls of Eden with a fiery sword that seemed to match his fiery devotion to Her.

With grief tightening his throat, he realized what exactly it was that was so tragic that seemed to call on every inch of his being to the creature.

It was like looking in a mirror that reflected the past. Before the fall, before becoming a demon. When he was still just as pure and wholesome as that angel.

Before he had questioned anything.

He needed to be closer to him with every inch of his being.

With his heart aching for the Grace that he could never achieve again, he turned his attention away from the angel. He is his rival, not a friend. Someone who was meant specifically to keep things like him out.

The damp grass cooled the skin of his underbelly as he slithered away. He wished the trees to give way soon to the warm glow of the sun to warm his cold blood but alas, the towering greenery offered a canopy for the lovers who crouched together under it, whispering quietly to each other.

Days past with nothing more than watching and waiting, thinking of his angel still guarding the walls. Then a week, before finally, his opportunity struck.

God was a fickle being. A fruit, a simple, sweet, fruit offered to the man, Adam who took it without a second of hesitation was all it took to get the two cast out of paradise as if they meant nothing.

He couldn’t help but feel bad for the woman, Eve. Adam had blamed her for taking the temptation and God saw fit to punish her instead- though She did give the man an Adam’s apple lodged in his throat that would no doubt pass down to every other man just as Eve’s punishment would follow her descendants.

Crawly knew now that his temptation was completed he needed to return to hell. He surely already had a new task to complete down there, and yet, his angel stood at the wall again, watching forlornly over the other side of the wall.

He had to. He simply had to speak to him, even if just for a moment. He looked so lonesome, as lonesome as Crawly felt.

Slowly, as to not startle him, he slithered his way up the wall, his dark skin stark in contrast to the white of the wall and the angel’s dress.

It no longer hurts to shift into a human though it was still uncomfortable. He didn’t want to look at the angel now that his attention was turned to him- to let him see his cursed eyes. Thankfully, his body had remained mostly unchanged from the fall save for his eyes and tattoo that branded him as a demon. Still, it felt good to let his pitch-black wings unfurl, his unruly red hair blowing gently in the wind. For a fun contrast, he made his robes black.

All the days had been nice so far, but clouds massing east of Eden suggested that the first thunderstorm was on its way, and it was going to be a big one. 

The angel of the Eastern Gate put his wings over his head to shield himself from the first drops. 

"I'm sorry," he said politely. "Did you say something?" 

"I said, that one went down like a lead balloon," said the serpent. 

"Oh. Yes," said the angel, whose name was Aziraphale.

"I think it was a bit of an overreaction, to be honest," said the serpent. "I mean, first offense and everything. I can't see what's so bad about knowing the difference between good and evil, anyway." 

"It must be bad," reasoned Aziraphale, in the slightly concerned tones of one who can't see it either, and is worrying about it, "otherwise you wouldn't have been involved." "They just said, Get up there and make some trouble," Crawly shrugged.

They sat in embarrassed silence, watching the raindrops bruise the first flowers. Eventually Crawly said, 

"Didn't you have a flaming sword?" 

"Er," said the angel. A guilty expression passed across his face, and then came back and camped there. 

"You did, didn't you?" said Crawly. "It flamed like anything." 

"Er, well-" "It looked very impressive, I thought." "Yes, but, well-"

"Lost it, have you?" "Oh no! No, not exactly lost, more-" 

"Well?" Aziraphale looked wretched. "If you must know," he said, a trifle testily, "I gave it away." 

Crawly stared up at him. 

"Well, I had to," said the angel, rubbing his hands distractedly. "They looked so cold, poor things, and she's expecting already, and what with the vicious animals out there and the storm coming up I thought, well, where's the harm, so I just said, look, if you come back there's going to be an almighty row, but you might be needing this sword, so here it is, don't bother to thank me, just do everyone a big favor and don't let the sun go down on you here." He gave Crawly a worried grin. 

At that moment, he felt it. He felt something akin to being in Her presence again.

Love.

.

.

.

A few days past, soon after a week. Armageddon was stopped, the world was saved, and his angel was still at his side.

Humorlessly, he couldn’t help but think that as he stood in front of the bookstore, that he had slithered here from Eden just to sit outside his door, flowers clutched in shaking hands. The arrangement had reminded him of the flowers that grew in bunched in Eden. Daisies, baby’s breath, sunflowers. They also reminded him of Aziraphale himself and his bright, beautiful personality.

They had known each other for six thousand years and a week and still, now Crowley, couldn’t confess the love he had felt for his angel since day one.

He shook the stress from his shoulders, reposing to knock when the door swung open to his surprise.

“Crowley, you’ve been standing out here for near ten minutes now,” Aziraphale worried. “What’s wrong, dear boy?”  
The words he had been practicing for years now stuck in his throat just as they always did. Crowley admired the man’s stupid tweed three-piece suit he wore no matter the occasion. He doubted the man had been doing anything but reading before he had interrupted him and yet he looked impeccable.

“Come in, would you like some tea? Or wine? I did pick up this new blend I hadn’t seen before, perhaps we could open it-”

“Angel,” Crowley yelped, eyes shut tight with fear. “We need to talk.”

Aziraphale blinked back surprise. “Has something happened?” he held the door open, a silent invitation for the demon to enter.

“Yes, well no. Not what you’re thinking, I’m sure. I brought cake,” he held up the paper sack hanging off his arm.

“And flowers, I see. Who are those for?” Aziraphale asked, confusion evident on his face, thick brows scrunched over baby blue eyes.

“For… just, let's go in and open that wine, yeah?” he prompted, wiggling past the angel to escape the scrutiny of his gaze.

It was easier, to speak his mind as he weaved through the shelves, easier to pretend he was back in his flat rehearsing to his plants what he was going to say. “There is something so wretched about what I am about to say, Angel. It’s… it’s something I’ve felt since the garden though. And I am certain you have never felt the same, I mean, it’s a sin I wouldn’t expect or even ask of you to ever commit, and please don’t think that I’m asking you to commit it for me. It’s just something I’ve needed to get off my chest so to speak,” he rambled, climbing the stairs. He could hear Aziraphale trying to keep up behind him, but he couldn’t stop. It felt like a dam was being unleashed, pent up for far longer than anything should ever be held in one place. Unwelcome tears clouded his eyes, thankfully hidden behind his sunglasses. “I don’t expect you to reciprocate my feelings, never would I ask something like that of you. But, I’ve been drawn to you since Eden, it felt like I was looking in a mirror before the fall. You were so kind and wholesome and magical- everything that I wasn’t. I’m not. And over the years, that feeling, it's only grown!”

Panic had him in a death grip as he neared the cabinet, setting the cake down haphazardly and all but throwing the flowers. “I love you!”

Crowley couldn’t bear to turn around. 

Aziraphale stopped behind him, so close that if he took a step back, he’d bump into him. He could feel his gaze boring into his soul- should he have one.

“I know.”

Surprise pushed the panicked nervousness down. “You what.”

Aziraphale chuckled. “I know, my dear. I’ve known for thousands of years now. And I love you too.”  
“No, Zira, I mean I love you more than a friend,” he braced himself, steeling his heart before turning around. Not that it would do much good. He wanted desperately for his feelings to be reciprocated, but he knew it wouldn’t happen. More than anything, he wanted him to know his feelings and for him to say it was alright, that they could stay friends without Crowley deceiving him any longer.

But if his angel sent him away, no amount of walls he put around his heart would matter. It would break him.

“Open your eyes, my dear. Please.”

That plea, he couldn’t say no. Not to him.

Slowly, he opened his eyes. Instead of disgust as he had been preparing for, there was nothing but a gentle smile. “I love you too.”  
Crowley shook his head. “No, no you don’t-”  
“And how do you know that?” Aziraphale shot back, crossing his arms petulantly.  
“Its… its a sin. There's something, not right about you feeling that way for me.” he whimpered.

“Oh, you silly snake,” he huffed. He reached out and Crowley didn’t move, letting him take his glasses off and set them on the cabinet behind him. With a gentle hand, he wiped the tears that had gathered in the corner of his eyes.

“I’ll admit, I didn’t immediately fall for you in Eden. I believe it was around the time that you saved me in that church during the war and even thought about my books. But I've loved you since. I know you can’t accept that though, and that’s alright. I’ve waited a few years to hear you say that, and I can wait for a few more if it means you’ll understand.”

He was being honest, Crowley could see it on his face. It wasn’t right, no matter what the angel said, but he was so, so bad at resisting temptation. He leaned forward, letting the man take the lead. He’d accept anything and everything that he was willing to give him.

Soft hands gently cupped his cheek, and even softer lips met him in the most chaste and yet the most wonderful kiss he’d ever had in his life. Before he was ready, it was over, with a final kiss on his forehead before his angel pulled away.

“How would you feel about that wine now?”

He nodded, unable to speak.

.

.

.

A few glasses turned into a bottle, sitting next to each other on the couch turned into scooting closer, into holding hands and sharing more of those wonderful kisses to full-on making out.

Crowley was overwhelmed. The wine was making the room feel hot, rocking every time he opened his eyes. Aziraphale didn’t seem to notice, continuing to kiss and touch and invade his space.

He wouldn’t push him away, not when this was all that he had wanted for thousands of years now, but he needed a breath to gather his thoughts, maybe put some of the alcohol back that was now coursing through his veins.

“My dear,” Aziraphale breathed against his swollen lips. “How would you feel about perhaps moving to the bedroom?”

When he didn’t answer, the angel pulled back, letting the demon catch his breath for a moment. Finally, he felt calm enough to realize what he was implying.

“You mean…”  
“Only if you want to,” Aziraphale took his hand gently, running his thumb over the smooth skin comfortingly. “I don’t want to do this if you don’t.”

Just the thought of feeling, hearing, seeing his angel in ecstasy made him groan softly, arousal growing under his skin. At the time, it had been taboo, but he imagined it so often on the rare times he touched himself, no matter the genitalia he wore at that moment. He wanted it, badly, but still, he couldn’t help but hesitate.

“Crowley?”

“I want to, dear Satan do I want to, but… have you ever…?”

Aziraphale nodded. “Of course. You know how I enjoy my earthly indulgences. And I was part of this gentleman’s club once,” he seemed to be lost in memory before snapping out of it. “What a time that was. I assume you have too, correct? You are the demon of original temptation after all.”

He nodded, going along with it, caught on the knowledge that his pure and wholesome angel had been having for sex for what could have been thousands of years now. “Sure, right, of course, I have. Loads of times.”  
Crowley cringed at the silence. He didn’t believe him.

“You haven’t, have you?” when Crowley didn’t answer, he smiled softly at him. “You don’t have to lie to me, Crowley. We can take this slow, it's still new-”

“No!” he yelped. “No, I want to. Really. Just… could we go slow with  _ that _ ?”

“Of course,” Aziraphale agreed. “Promise me though if you need anything, and I do mean anything, you’ll tell me. Even if its to stop, alright?”

Crowley nodded.

They sat there for a moment, taking everything in before Aziraphale stood, holding his hand gently and leading him down a hallway he had seldom gone down.

His heartbeat thumped harder and harder the closer they got to the bedroom, and at the sight of his bed, it seemed to start ringing in his ear.

Aziraphale led him to the bed and sat down, patting the plush comforter in an invitation to sit down, which he took. He snorted at just how soft the bed was. Of course, the angel had found the most comfortable bed in existence to keep in his room.

“How would you like to do this? You should set the pace.”

Crowley gulped, at a loss of how to answer. “Could we maybe go back to what we were doing on the couch?”

Aziraphale nodded, leaning in to capture his mouth.

He was so lost in the kiss he chased after Aziraphale as he began moving up the bed, desperate to keep it going. Hands gripped his slender hips, pulling him until he settled on the angel’s lap.

When he pulled away, breathing heavily, the angel was leaning against the headboard, seeming content to let Crowley continue to straddle him and lead the way, though he wasn’t sure where to go from there.

“Are you alright with this?” Aziraphale asked, tenderly.

“Perfectly,” he smiled back, leaning down for another kiss. 

His hands left his hips, leaving a trail of hellfire everywhere they touched, sliding under his shirt and up his chest, thumb stroking over his nipple and cupping his side.

Crowley clawed at the tweed jacket the man was wearing, trying to get it unbuttoned and off. He heard a button pop, rolling off into the floor. He knew he’d be hearing about the destruction of the jacket as soon as they were done, but thankfully the angel didn’t seem to notice for the moment.

“Why,” he grumbled when he was met with a whole row of buttons on his undershirt. “Do you find it necessary to wear this?”

“It's comfortable,” Aziraphale, pouted. “Like yours is any better anyways.”

He rolled his eyes adoringly, performing a small miracle to rid them both of their shirts. “Much better.”

“Indeed.”

It felt easy, much easier than it had with anyone else. He often contemplated his sexuality, though it was something that was hard to define when one’s a genderfluid supernatural being. But he had tried to have sex before, even with humans that he cared about like Freddie, but it only reached the point of making out before he called it off.

Now though, he craved more and more, more comfortable with Aziraphale than he had ever been with anyone before. 

“Angel,” he groaned, rocking his hips light against his. He leaned in, latching onto his neck. The man underneath him tilted his head back, giving him more access to suck and bite hickeys into his skin.

“How do you want to present?” Aziraphale asked breathily, still tweaking his nipples and making the demon twitch.

He thought about it for a moment before deciding. “I believe I’ll use a vagina this time. Is that alright?”

“Of course. I usually use a penis, is that alright?”

“Of course,” he mimicked. He didn’t really care either way when it came to genitalia. What he really cared about was Aziraphale, looking at him as if he was… worthy.

“Could you go ahead and manifest it? I’d like to try something,” Aziraphale asked, a devilish smirk rising on his face.

Crowley nodded enthusiastically, focusing just enough attention to change his body beneath his pants.

Soon after he was being guided again, this time to lay on his back as their positions were switched. Crowley couldn’t help but notice how vulnerable he felt: bare skin against the dawn comforter, Aziraphale unbuttoning his trousers, sitting between his legs. Nervous excitement built in his chest like a butterfly caught between his ribs when his angel pulled his trousers down completely, hands caressing his legs until he was completely free of them.

“Is… is it alright?” He asked, resisting the urge to shy away.

“My dear,” Aziraphale breathed. “You’re beautiful. Absolutely perfect.”

An idea struck the angel, urging him to pick up the demon’s leg and place a gentle kiss to his shin. “I love you,” another kiss against his knee cap. “So,” he placed another to the inside of his thigh, delighted when Crowley shivered. “So much.” He placed a final kiss on the man’s sinuous, bony hips.

“Angel,” Crowley whines softly. Now that he had manifested genitals, his arousal had a place to go. His vagina quivered, wetness condensing between his lips.

“What is it, my dear?” Aziraphale teased as if he couldn’t see his juices beginning to coat the soft curls of red hair.

Crowley whined again, canting his hips forward. “Please do something. Anything.”

“Anything? So you’d be contempt if I went and grabbed a book? We could cuddle, turn on some Mozart-“

“You know what I mean!” Crowley groaned, gripping his lover's arm. He knew what he wanted him to say from the wicked grin he sported and it took all of Crowley’s power to force out the quiet whimper “Please, angel.”

Before the words were even fully out of his mouth, a wet caress of his tongue slid across his lips, just barely dipping in enough to taste him but Aziraphale moaned as if he had just gotten his favorite dessert.

Crowley couldn’t help but try to chase the feeling, bony fingers grabbing a fistful of white curls.

He dove back in with an unrivaled intensity, licking deep inside him, sucking as if he couldn’t get enough before turning his attention to his clit, tonging at the button until Crowley tried to get away from the sensation just to be held down with supernatural strength.

“Angel, angel, angel, angel, oh god please,” he sobbed, back curving off the bed. His legs shuddered, wrapping tightly around Aziraphale’s head. A pressure was building in his gut, aching with the need for release.

“You taste like heaven,” Aziraphale looked up at him before diving back in, eating him like it was his last supper. He slipped a finger into the sweet, sticky folds to worship the places he wasn’t paying attention to before slowly sliding two into him to start stretching him some.

Innocence died with a scream that left Crowley’s chest, clenching around those fingers as his orgasm washed over him. Aziraphale didn’t stop, instead, seeming to pump and suck harder, faster, pushing the hood of his clit up to get at the sensitive underside.

Incoherent babble left Crowley’s mouth in an endless stream, his whole body feeling like he was being electrified. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him until it felt as though he would drown.

At just the right moment though, Aziraphale pulled away, just verging on too much. He lurched up, kissing Crowley deeply. He could feel his wetness on his cheeks, tasting himself on his tongue.

“I love you,” Aziraphale whispered against panting lips. “I want to spend eternity with you.”

Crowley gulped. He couldn’t be so lucky as to get something like this for eternity. Still, he couldn’t help but return the words. “I love you too.”

“Are you okay?” Aziraphale brushed a lock of red hair out of Crowley’s eyes, sweat plastering it to his scalp, no doubt to curl once it dried. “How do you feel?”

“Wonderful,” Crowley breathed. “I didn’t know it could feel like  _ that. _ ”

Aziraphale chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss at his neck. “It’s a lovely experience to share with someone. You looked so beautiful when you came I didn’t know what to do with myself.”

Crowley blushed beet red at the compliment. Since they entered the bedroom he hadn’t considered what he looked like, but now he was overly aware. His hair was a mess from rubbing against the pillow, eyes blown wide and snakelike, no longer resembling a human’s at all. 

His chest heaved, still trying to calm his breathing after his orgasm as he became acutely aware that his angel still bore his trousers.

Before he could fight back the embarrassment in his throat and say something, Aziraphale thankfully noticed. He offered a gentle smile as he said: “my dear you are the most gorgeous creature I have ever laid eyes on in all my years on both heaven and earth.”

There was no malice to his words, no rolling eyes, no irony.

“Angel,” Crowley whimpered, feeling lost as to what to say. Aziraphale seemed to understand. He leaned down, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips as if that would solve all their problems.

As much as Crowley appreciated the gesture, he had his own ideas that he wanted to execute if the angel would let him.

He guided the man to lay back just as he had done earlier that evening, settling back over his hips. This time, however, he could feel his newly manifested body parts under him, pressing tightly against his straining trousers. Crowley smirked, grinding his hips down to see the way Aziraphale sucked in a breath, tightening his grip on his hips almost bruisingly.

If anything, Crowley was great with words, temptation was his specialty after all. And as embarrassing as it was, he wanted to watch Aziraphale squirm some. He leaned down, dragging his hips sinuously. “Can I ride you?” He whispered against his neck. “I want to see how you feel inside me more than anything.”

It was Aziraphale’s turn to gulp. “Of course, my dear. Whatever you want-“

“I want you to fuck me, I’ve wanted it for years,” he reaches under himself, unbuttoning the man’s tweed pants. “I’ve thought about you so often, every time I’d touch myself I’d scream for you.”

“Oh buggers,” Aziraphale grumbled. With a snap of his fingers, his trousers were gone, leaving him as nude as Crowley. “Stop your foul words and get on with it please.”

Crowley snorted, leaning back up. Without his trousers, his stomach was even more evident. It wasn’t all muscle and bone, but soft, comforting. Much more preferable.

It really was like looking in a mirror. It was Aziraphale’s turn to feel insecure, pulling his arms around himself to hide.

“Angel, please don’t,” Crowley pulled at his arms. “I want to see you the same way you saw me. I’m so deeply in love with you, inside and out.”

Aziraphale held out his hand, urging Crowley to thread their fingers together.

It was them against the world, their team. Their side and no one else’s. Knowing both heaven and hell were against them wasn’t a comfort, but knowing they would forever be together was.

Crowley used his free hand to align them together, gasping at the feeling of his head pressing against him. His cock was average in length but the girth was something that couldn't be rivaled, not that he had much to compare it to.

That nervous excitement clawed it’s way back inside his Crowley’s stomach, butterflies fluttering wildly as he pushed down.

Pants escaped his lips mixing with small moans until he bottomed out, hips pressed against hips once again. He’d never felt so full in his life, the sensation foreign but not unpleasant. His pussy quivered, still over-sensitive and dripping.

“Breathe, Crowley. Relax, you don’t have to move until you’re ready,” Aziraphale rubbed assuring circles on his hip, though his voice was strained.

He nodded, letting himself adjust as his lover suggested. After a while, he certainly did feel better, his muscles relaxing and the pain ebbing away until it was nonexistent.

Testing the waters, he rolled his hips, rising up just to impale himself again, drawing a low groan from Aziraphale.

It was slow, methodical. Gold met blue, gazing at each other with such adoration, hand in hand still. It was an awkward angle to hold hands at but neither was willing to let go just yet.

“So good,” Crowley whined, angling up so his cock would drag against his clit just right.

“ _ You’re  _ so good. You’re doing splendidly,” Aziraphale bucked into him, drawing a squeal from the man above him. “I wish you could see what I see. Perfect.”

There was that familiar heat, curling low in his groin. It drove him to move faster and faster, clenching down around his cock like a vice.

“Zira… close,” Crowley whimpered.

“Not yet,” Aziraphale pleaded, bucking into him harder and harder.

Crowley moaned, chocking on his pleading words. He couldn’t wait, sobbing as he felt his pussy throb, his release pulled out of him in a gush. He couldn’t catch his breath, chest heaving and sweat dripping down his forehead and mind pleasantly numb. With his entire body boneless, he fell against his lover, relaxing into his neck.

Aziraphale kept fucking into him, each aftershock that much stronger with the overstimulation. He didn’t want it to ever stop and yet each drag of his cock against his sensitive sex made him feel like he was going to scream if he didn’t stop. Then again, he would probably scream if he did.

“Oh, my dear,” Aziraphale sighed breathily. “I’m so close, babe.”

The new pet name sent a shiver down his back. Crowley would do anything as long as Aziraphale kept calling him that.

Crowley sat up just enough to see his angel finish, his beautiful face scrunching up, eyes clenched tight as warm liquid flooded his insides.

“Ah, I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask-”

“No,” Crowley sighed dreamily, relaxing back down against him, feeling his chest rise up and down, listening to his heartbeat. “It’s perfect.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed that trainwreck, lemme know! If you didn't, lemme know! I dunno, I just love feedback okay, and I have no friends so like, come talk to me on twitter! @Jellypanda00 (I keep it safe for work on there don't worry)


End file.
